


Coffee (in the Morning)

by Daiako (Achrya)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: ...I'm honestly not sure how to tag this, Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Pining, Sass, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9387227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Gladio knows they need a new vocalist and that it's all his fault but he would still rather be doing just about anything that wasn't listening to one of Noct's friends audition. ...Even if that friend is crazy adorable.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve done two flavors of pining Prompto so it’s only right to have some pining Gladio, am I right? And so I bring you the super gay boy band AU that, honestly, no one needed. (I mean we need one. But not from me, I don’t know shit about bands/music. The closest I got to being in a band was dating a soft-butch drummer in college and that is enough about that isn’t it?)
> 
> There's a lot going on here considering I meant for this to be a straightforward 'Prompto sings and Gladio feels feelings'. Instead we've got Gladio who is having unspecified issues, Ignis who is annoyed, some Ignoct pining, Prompto insecurity, Gladio and Iggy being mean to each other, and Nyx once again getting the short end of the stick.

 

Gladio glanced down at his phone as he pushed open the door to Weskham’s place, leaving the swirling snow and frigid cold behind him. It was mid-afternoon so the bar was more or less empty save for a few particularly sad looking regulars. Gladio nodded towards them in acknowledgement, smiling when they brightened up briefly and called his name, and raised a hand when he caught Ignis’ eye; the younger man was behind the bar, wiping down glasses. 

“I was starting to think you were going to be late.” Ignis said as he stepped back to push open the door to the kitchen. He gestured to someone out of a sight and nodded at whatever was said to him. 

Gladio waved a hand dismissively as he started to make his way towards the small stage in the very back of the bar. “I’m never late.” 

He had put in some serious thought into just not showing up and blaming it on the weather but he would have called if he was going to do that.  He wasn’t nearly as big of a jerk as Ignis liked to imply that he was but, as it turned out, you drop off the radar for a few months to handle some personal things and all of a sudden people don’t trust you anymore and all of your relationships become strained. At this point, though, Ignis was really the only one still holding that against him. Noctis had moved on pretty quickly and Nyx was...well Nyx was Nyx. 

There wasn’t much to say about him beyond that. 

But Ignis. Good dependable Ignis who’d never stepped a toe out of line his entire life (except a drunken nipple piercing he’d managed to blame Gladio for in the end) didn’t forgive easily. Unless it was Noctis, who Ignis would forgive anything but Gladio supposed that was a side effect of Ignis being head over heels in love with their friend. 

Not that Ignis was admitting that to anyone, least of all Noctis or that Noct was owning up to his crush on Ignis. No, they just dated other people, wondered why their relationships failed, and pretended not to be staring at each other constantly. And then wondered why Gladio hadn’t wanted to unload his issues onto their stupid asses and had opted to just leave for a while. He loved them but they made him want to tear his hair out. 

He glanced towards the stage, frowning slightly as he dismissed that thought. There were two chairs set up on it with two guitar cases laid across them. One he knew was holding Noct’s acoustic, identified by the familiar cartoon, band, and university stickers. The other was similarly adorned with brightly colored cartoon characters, in sticker and drawn on form, as well as glittery star stickers. Gladio tried to picture what sort of person it would belong to but after conjuring up another version of Noctis he dismissed the attempt. Not that a second Noctis would be such a bad thing, aside from trying to get two impossible people up and moving in the morning.

Plus the last thing Ignis needed in his life was another Noct. ...or maybe that was exactly what he’d needed. 

Speaking of Noct. Gladio dumped his scarf and gloves on a chair and started stripping off his coat as he looked around the bar pointedly. “Where’s the princess?” 

“Backstage with Prompto.” Ignis dropped a can of soda in front of him and settled into the chair next to him. Gladio stared at it blankly and was graced with an eyeroll. “If you think you’re getting an actual drink you’ve lost your mind.” 

“Oh, I make one little mistake-”

“I don’t consider drunken wrestling that results in a broken leg a little mistake.” Ignis interrupted, tone desert dry. A cactus would have shriveled up and died in his presence. “I seem to recall you promising to drink less on the way to the hospital.” 

Gladio frowned. “I was drunk when I said that.” 

And probably in shock, considering that he’d gone from celebrating to racing to the hospital so fast he’d nearly gotten whiplash. Still he couldn’t begrudge Ignis his irritation; it was particularly bad luck that Gladio had accidently broken their frontman’s leg the very day they’d found on they were going on a spring tour to open for Oracle, Lunafreya’s band. And now here they were, three weeks later, looking for a replacement because there was no way Nyx was going to be able to be able come with them between cast time and then therapy to get back to normal. Gladio was against the idea, it felt way too much like ditching Nyx the minute things were actually happening, but he’d been outvoted 3 to 1. 

Nyx was being too good natured about everything. He wasn’t mad about his leg and had even gone so far as to insist it was at least half his fault. Which just made Gladio feel worse. Nyx wasn’t upset about being replaced either. It wasn’t, he’d said mildly, like he was their original frontman anyway. 

Their band had existed in one form or anything since high school, first with Luna and Cindy singing then Luna had left for college and it had shifted to Cindy and Noct. Then Luna, now part of a group with her girlfriend Gentiana and Aranea, had poached Cindy and still hadn’t apologized. His sister, Iris, had joined for a little while but college for Ignis and Gladio had resulted in doing nothing for a little while and a whole ‘what exactly are we doing here’ crisis when Luna’s band had suddenly gone from begging to play dive bars to being paid to play at clubs and other small venues. Iris had decided on a college further away and by the time they’d picked up Nyx (which had been a huge departure from what they were used to) Gladio had been about ready to run off and do some soul searching. 

And now this. 

Not that they were bad or that it had been all bad times. They were...well, they had a loyal following who had stuck around even when their drummer of fucked off to parts unknown for almost six months. And the lineup changes. And they had fun and fuck if Gladio wasn’t happiest when they were playing together, even if it was just practice in the garage. And the rush of being on stage, even if it was  _ just _ here at Weskham’s or some smoky club or shitty outdoor venue where they were the first act and only ten people were watching, was indescribable. 

He absolutely wanted to do this thing with Luna’s band. He just felt like maybe Nyx’s leg breaking the day they found out was a sign from the Gods. 

It seemed like a bad omen to him but Noctis had gained some kind of backbone and sense of determination while Gladio was away (who would have fucking figured) and here he was. Sitting in the place he worked bar at five nights a week on his actual day off, waiting to listen to some friend of Noct’s sing. 

This was actually the fifth person they were hearing and, so far, nothing had been quite right. He wasn’t so sure bout this guy either. 

For one he hadn’t known Noct had other friends, plus Ignis had let it slip this guy used to be a theater kid in high school. Gladio had dated a theater kid once and was still suitably traumatized from the experience. And he wasn’t sure ‘The King and I’ meshed well with their sound. But, again, outvoted. 

At least Ignis and Noct had promised no favoritism. Either the friend was good enough or he wasn’t, end of story. Though. If he wasn’t they were kind of in trouble; they had about a month to get someone up to speed with their sets and ready to hit the road with them which was playing with fire, to say the very least of things. 

This should have been a good time. They were living their teenage dream, more or less, and gearing up for some kind of epic road trip up and down the coast with Luna and her girls. Things didn’t get much better than that, not really, but instead of enjoying it they were scrambling around to even be ready to go. If they didn’t have someone soon Luna’s manager was going to make her find a different opener. 

The door by the stage opened and Noctis’ head poked out. He zeroed in on them then smiled and stepped out. “Cool, you’re here.” 

“Of course I’m here.” Gladio grumbled. “Let’s get this done. I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents tonight.” 

Noctis nodded as he jogged over to slide into the seat on Ignis’ other side. “It shouldn’t take long. Two songs, right?” 

Gladio hummed; that was what he’d agreed to. Two songs that he’d listen to with an open mind and whatever conclusion he came to was what they’d abide by. “You aren’t singing with him?” 

“No. We were messing around a little earlier so he could warm up but this is all him.” Noctis leaned back, front legs of his chair lifting off the ground. “He’s good, you’ll see.” 

Gladio’s retort (that Noctis had said the same thing about the other four) dropped away when the stage door opened again. The man that stepped out was...something. Golden blond hair swept up in an odd style, blue eyes, pouty lips with the bottom trapped between his teeth, and a face full of freckles were what he saw first. His gaze swept down to take in a small (smaller than him anyway) form; narrow shoulders, long arms, long fingered hands, pale skin. His nails were painted an eye assaulting shade of neon purple that was chipping. He seemed to like layers, wearing a worn looking black vest covered in patches over a long sleeved black shirt, currently pushed up towards his elbows and allowed a single black wrist cuff to be seen. Under that was a deep red crop top; it showed off a flat stomach and more pale freckled skin. Tight black jeans and heavy black boots finished off the look. 

Gladio wasn’t sure what to make of him. Except-

“He’s cute.” 

Ignis made a choked noise then turned to stare at Gladio. “What?” 

“He’s cute.” Gladio repeated more for the way it made Ignis’ brows pinch together in surprise than for any other reason. “You know if he’s single or not?” 

Unfortunately Ignis never stayed ruffled long and, true to form, he was rolling his eyes and turning away in short order. “He’s too nice for you.” 

Rude. And probably completely true. He looked nice, like the boys Iris brought home who basically passed out on the spot when Gladio and their father cornered them. And nervous, shooting them anxious looks as he climbed up onto the stage and shuffled over to stand in front of the chairs. 

Gladio wasn’t known for being attracted to nice or nervous. Or cute for that matter. 

Or men.

Running away had been a time full of personal discovery and reevaluation of priorities. And experimental makeouts with dudes. He’d come to the not-all-that-shocking conclusion that he liked making out with people. The verdict was still out anything beyond that. 

“So uh. Anything you wanted to hear?” Prompto asked; his eyes were locked on Noctis, practically begging for help. Noctis smiled comfortingly. 

“Whatever you want Prom.” 

He rubbed at the back of his neck and laughed. “Well I’ve been told I do a mean Chocobo Song. Also Beyonce and...that was a joke. Sort of. ...this is going well.” 

Gladio leaned back in his chair to send Noctis his most unimpressed look. Even if this kid was amazing it wasn’t going to matter if he fell apart when he had to sing in front of people. If he was nervous now, with the three of them and a bunch of lonely drunks then he had no chance in front of a real crowd. Noctis’ eyes slide towards him then back to Prompto in a manner that could only be called pointed. 

“Two songs. You promised.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

Prompto looked, for a moment, like he might bolt. Gladiolus honestly thought that might have been for the best, there was no point in dragging this out if they didn’t have to. Then blue eyes flickered away from Noctis and met his own. The fear melted away and was replaced by something hard and determined; an electric tingle raced up Gladio’s spine. Prompto breathed in slowly, squared his shoulder, and opened his mouth. 

“We talk street art and sarcasm, crass humor and high fashion. Peach color, moon glistens as the plot thickens.” He started quiet but got louder, and more confident, quickly. “As we laugh over shot guns and tongue kisses, bubble bath, truth or dare, and would you rather. A cold flame, the thrill, of no shame.  Drugs, sex, and polaroids, biggest star in the sky. We could both say goodbye.”

Gladio heard, distantly, Noctis and Ignis let out relieved breaths in the same moment. He was sure that if he looked he’d find them turning towards each other and then looking away in that awkward way they seemed to get off on. He filed it away as another reminder that they were terrible and he deserved better, less stupid friends. 

“I wish I could paint our love, these moments and vibrant hues. Wordplay, turns into gunplay, and gunplay turns into pillow talk.” His expression smoothed out, brows unfurrowing and some of the harshness around his mouth vanishing. The tension in his body drained out bit by bit and he started looking more comfortable. Comfortable was a good look on him. “Pillow talk turns into sweet dreams, sweet dreams turns into fucking in the morning.” 

His voice was deeper when he was singing and not so anxious he looked like he was going to faint. It had none of the rasp Nyx had or the twang Cindy had brought or much of the sweetness that Iris and Lunafreya’s voices had but it was...nice. Warm and bright, strong enough to fill the bar. Good breath control. 

“Fucking in the morning. I don't wanna wake you, I just wanna watch you sleep. It's the smell of your hair.” There was a hint of a smile on Prompto’s lips and the light in his eyes seemed to spread over his entire face as he bopped along to the music in his head. It was a  _ much _ better look on him. “And it's the way that we feel, I've never felt comfortable like this.” 

Fuck. He was good. And cute. 

“Old souls we found a new religion, now I'm swimming in that sin, baptism. Peach colored skies we feel the sunrise, two lost angels discover salvation.” His eyes slipped shut; something like regret stirred in Gladio’s chest. “Don't you wish we could run away now?”

\---

There was a second song and then a third, classic rock and bluesy country for the sake of showing off range, with some idle discussion so Gladio could get a better idea of what Prompto was like inbetween, and then a fourth and fifth at the request of the bar’s patrons. There probably would have been more, Prompto was not just enjoying himself but was laughing loudly and practically bouncing in place as he answered questions, but Gladio’s phone had gone off three times during the last song. 

“Is that your mother?” Ignis asked, voice all innocent question and expression disgustingly guileless. “Late for dinner?” 

“I hate you.” Gladio muttered as he began gathering his stuff up. He was too old to have his mother forcing him over for Saturday dinner and chain calling him. She, of course, would argue that he was too old to go missing for six months with barely a phone call or text every month.

They were both probably right.  

Ignis smiled with the easy confidence of one who knew when someone was bullshitting them. “I’m your closest friend.” 

Gladio sighed. “Unfortunately.” 

Ignis’ smile dimmed slightly; a tightness coiled in Gladio’s chest. “I’ll walk you to your car.” 

Gladio followed Ignis back to the bar, leaning against it as he ducked behind to grab his coat. He watched the stage where Prompto and Noctis seemed to be arguing about something. Their guitars were out and they were both grinning and pointing viciously, shaking their heads in turn. Gladio squinted, considering the playful shoving and the way their heads were inclined towards each other. 

“Are they-”

“No.” Ignis answered just a little too fast and refused to meet Gladio’s eyes when he came back around the bar. He turned up the collar of his peacoat, fiddled with the edge, then added: “...I asked.” 

“So he is single?” 

Ignis squinted at him, eyes amused behind his glasses. “If it turns out you ran off because of sudden bisexual panic I might never speak to you again.” 

“...That was only a quarter of the reason. Tops.” More like fifteen or twenty percent, really. Maybe even ten. And panic was a very strong term. He didn't think he'd ever panicked. “If it had just been that I would have crashed on your couch and demanded you repay the great ‘kiss me to check for gayness’ favor of eighth grade.” 

He was probably too old for that too. 

Ignis shoved his shoulder and tried to look irritated but his quiet laughter gave him away. “We don’t speak of that. Ever.”  

Noctis and Prompto started playing, colliding together and slightly out of sync for a few beats but then melding together into something slow and rhythmic. The bar patrons had abandoned the actual bar in favor of the booths and tables closest to the stage and were already clapping, glad for the entertainment. He and Ignis plunged into the cold, finding it already dark and that the snow was still coming down.  

“And all I am is a man, I want the world in my hands. I hate the beach. But I stand in California with my toes in the sand. Use the sleeves on my sweater. Let’s have an adventure.”

“I should make sure,” Ignis said. His breath misted in front of his face and his hands were already crammed deep into his coat pockets. “You approve of Prompto, yes?” 

“Don’t gloat. It doesn’t suit you.” 

“Nonsense.” Ignis huffed. “It absolutely suits me. That’s why I’m so careful to always be right.” 

Gladio was in a decent enough mood so he let that slide with nothing more than a sidewise glance and a snort. They could argue about the things Ignis was dedicated to getting wrong some other time. 

No reason to ruin what might end up a good night with a years old arguement. 

“I like him.” 

“Oh? I couldn’t tell. It wasn’t as if you were drooling over him.” 

...He’d tried to be a good person. He really had. “When are you and Noct going to fuck? I’ve read romance novels with less sexual tension then you two have. Do you have a 'six weeks living together on a small bus' plan yet? ...does it involve staring at each other when you think the other is sleeping?” 

Ignis’ offended sputtering, and vehement denials of feelings, were as satisfying as always. 

**Author's Note:**

> So. Prompto was going to sing some Beyonce, because I do what I want, but I settled on Coffee, by Miguel. ...Not the clean version. And then Sweater Weather, by the Neighbourhood. I think Noct and Prompto are trying to be funny. 
> 
> I have this thought that Gladio intended, after college, to follow in his dad's footsteps and become a cop but got to his senior year and had this kind of epic freakout because he realized that he's spent his whole life living for other people and doing what they needed from him and he didn't know who he was beyond that or what he wanted. So he went on a little adventure. Drove around. Kissed some boys and girls, went home with people when it suited him. Drank too much on occasion. Watched a lot of sunsets and slept in a tent frequently. Checked in sometimes to see if Noct and Iggy were boning down yet. 
> 
> Or something like that?


End file.
